


Take Him On

by Megane



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Camping, Cooking, Male Friendship, Sparring, Travelling Dorks, Tutorial Application
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 09:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3605601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megane/pseuds/Megane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morning finally rises, and Noctis is awake. Now he's ready to loosen up those muscles, or so Gladio esteems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Him On

**Author's Note:**

> Let's say I'm mid-early Episode Duscae. No spoilers. I'm getting a handle on their characterisations, especially Noct's since he's awake.
> 
> Something of an informal continuation to [Good Morning-Night](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3603450).

The smell of food bubbled into the air. Noctis rolled over onto his back, yawning up into the tent air when he did. He had more space than usual. The other three were already up and outside. They had decided to let him sleep in? Well, that was new. He wasn't going to counter that judgement with any questions though – just accept it and keep on going. His jaw ached when he finally sat up; the blood settled into his head, making it ache even more. He frowned slightly and kneaded the muscles under his chin before trailing his fingers behind his jaw. He came to his feet carefully, walking in a crouch as he exited the tent. As always, the Sun was bright and asshole-ish in its brilliance. Noctis blinked his eyes, hand falling away. Prompto crept by, staring at the ground as he went.

          "Morning~" the blond greeted, lifting his head up briefly.

Noctis gave a vague sound in response before trudging forward. Prompto laughed to himself, following the invisible line to wherever he was off to. Gladiolus had his hands placed on his hips, staring out to the thinly vegetated plains. He flicked his gaze over his shoulder, watching Noctis head to one of the folding chairs. The tattooed male smirked.

          "Mornin', Noct. You feeling alright?"

          "Been better." The thinner male reached a hand up, blocking his eyes. "I've had mornings when the Sun  _wasn't_ burning me in the face."

          "It happens from time to time."

          Noctis scoffed, absently muttering, "Who needs it?"

          Ignis spoke up this time: "I believe the answer to that is most living things. It's a great supply of energy-cum-indicator of time." He lifted his ladle and took a sip of the meaty broth. "Or do you mean being blinded by said Sun? In which case, the answer is nobody."

          "Nobody," Noctis agreed, selectively hearing what he wanted.

          "Highness, would you like to try some?" 

          "Sure."

Noctis pressed his hands onto the arms of the folding chair and stood up. He made his way over to Ignis, who handed over the ladle without delay. 

          "I wouldn't show him any special treatment," the heavyweight began, his voice closer now.

Noctis pulled the ladle away from his lips, peering over to Gladio. The taller male had his arms crossed and was looking particularly smug as he approached. Ignis reached up and pushed his glasses higher on his nose, eyelashes brushing the lens.

          "Noct's gonna need to wake up a bit more. Feeding him now's only gonna make him lazy."

          "It's just a little sip," Noctis defended, the aroma of the roast stew wafting up to his nose.

          "'Give a man an inch and he'll run a mile'. Isn't that the rule?"

The prince scoffed, lowering the ladle down into the broth again. He held it upright with the tips of his fingers against its body. Ignis curled his fingers along the hook, and Noctis pulled his hand away. Gladiolus drew open his arms.

          "C'mon. Let's squeeze in some training for you while we're here. We're in a great spot, not a lot of enemies around. And you can stretch out those pale legs of yours."

Prompto had, by now, finished his little adventure and slid over to the chairs. He placed his hands on the back of one closest to Ignis.

          "Yeah," he stated with a smile, "and we can eat while you two go at it."

          "Actually, it's on a slow burn," Ignis corrected. "This would be a great thing to do instead of watching the pot."

Prompto let out a little thoughtful whine. He agreed, but he also didn't want to wait to eat. It was a win-lose situation from how he was seeing it. Noctis placed his hands on his hips and shook his head.

          " _Fine_ ," he breathed out.

          "Great. Get over here - let's get some distance."

Noctis let out a hum and a sigh but followed the instructions. He heard the familiar sound of material summoning off to his right. When he lifted his head, their heavyweight had his sword balanced on his shoulder. The smaller male lowered himself down, stretching the muscles in his back before sitting up. Right as he erected his posture, Gladiolus was coming straight for him.

Prompto leaned back in his chair, kicking up his right leg onto his left one. He propped his ankle on his knee, bobbing his leg a little bit. Ignis smoothly headed over to a folding chair directly across from Prompto. His eyes went over to the lidded shallow pot. The interior of the lid was just the slightest bit cloudy with patches of steam water streaking down. Ignis pushed up his glasses, and his attention strayed back to the sparring duo.

Noctis was breathing heavily now. He jumped back out of the way of another vertical swipe, but Gladio surprised him with a horizontal follow up. Before he knew it, the Zweihander was in his hands, parrying the broadsword's attack. Gladio laughed mirthfully. "Almost like it's natural, huh!?" he shouted, spinning away with his sword and stabbing it into the earth. Gladiolus was still too close for a warp throw, Noctis surmised, so he would have to go in with a forward charge.

Perhaps that was his first mistake.

He twisted his Zweihander and shifted his right leg back. He raised his arms eye level and rushed forward, letting out a grunt of effort as he did. Gladio didn't lift his sword, though he kept his hand secured on its grip. Instead, his muscles tensed as he jumped up, hoisting himself towards Noctis feet first. The prince was a bit too stunned by the attack choice to properly evade. Boots collided with his chest and sent him rolling backwards. Prompto winced, mouth grimacing comically as he recoiled. 

          "Ouch," he stated, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. He turned his head to Ignis. "Wonder how much that hurt."

Ignis made a soft but pained noise, looking away from the scene briefly. Both spectators turned their heads back to the fight at Gladio's laugh.

          "Sorry 'bout that, Noct," the tattooed guard stated, "but I gotta keep you on your toes, right?"

          The raspy voiced royal grunted and stood up. "Right."

He lifted his head up, realising that Gladiolus had kicked him a fairly decent ways away. The bodyguard was on his way over, but he was taking his time. Noctis decided this was the time to act. He jumped up with all fours, raising himself up into the air. He pitched out his right arm, sending a thread of energy towards Gladiolus. The bodyguard had seen the trick many times before, so he knew to brace himself against the oncoming Partisan attack. Noctis kept his hands gripped around the shaft of the lance, hands turning towards each other with the strength of his hold. Gladio whistled and growled loudly, turning his arms to his extreme right and pulling his sword in an arc over his head. It did two things.

One, successfully flick Noctis away from Gladiolus' person.

Two, give the grumbly prince a chance to attack with his secondary idea.

Ignis stood up to check on the stew. At the same time, Noctis was flipping backwards with Gladio in close pursuit a couple of seconds later. Prompto bounced excitedly in his seat. He had seen Noctis pull this trick off  _once_ on purpose and a second time in the chaos of battle. He flicked his attention up towards Ignis, who was checking the contents of the pot.

          "You don't wanna miss this!" he enthused. 

          Ignis tipped his head up towards the fight again, lowering his ladle blindly down into the pot. "They have my full, rarely divided attention."

Prompto let out a little laugh and took in a deep whiff of the stew. He sighed in content and turned back to the fight, lest his attention be distracted by the delicious aroma.

Noctis' feet had hit the ground. It was a noteworthy though brief success. He slid backwards and lost his balance again, tipping back onto his heels before he could catch himself. But he had better reflexes than his own clumsiness could have accounted for. He twisted his upper body down towards the ground; the rest of his body easily followed. He slapped the ground with both palms and ran forward. His bangs swayed into his face, causing the prince to squint his eyes as he ran. Just behind him, he heard Gladiolus' sword come in contact with the ground. He knew he had just barely dodged out of the way. The prince breathed quickly out his nose, feeling his lungs burn. He used his momentum to slide around, almost fluidly, and he aimed his energy at Gladiolus again. This time, when he appeared before the taller male, he didn't have a sword with him. Instead, Noctis gripped onto the hilt of the sword and Gladio's left shoulder. The two stared at each other. Gladiolus grit his teeth as he felt Noctis' soles dig into his arms.

          "Gonna be real tough to clean this out," Gladiolus grunted.

          "Yeah?" the prince countered. "You'll get over it."

He kicked off Gladiolus' body and tossed something upward. His body was all but yanked up towards the skies, and he was briefly suspended in the air. As he opened out his position, Noctis fanned out his fingers. He felt something materialise against his right palm and immediately grabbed onto it. He brought his left arm over to join his right, body slowly turning with the motion. And then, he moved - like a stream of light. Gladiolus took an instinctive step back. His body moved him, and his mind made him take the defensive. But. He still wasn't prepared for the ripple of power that surged through him. The Wyvern Lance hit the ground with a full-body rumble. It made those nearby shake haphazardly. Ignis lowered himself a bit, trying to keep the pot steady. Prompto gripped his chair with both hands and pressed his feet onto the ground.

Gladio was on his back by the end of it, sword knocked a couple of feet away from him. Noctis has laid out on his stomach for a few moments. He groaned and pushed himself up with his forearms. Gladiolus coughed and rocked onto his left side. Well, at least he wasn't dead.

          "If you're quite finished," Ignis started. He took a sip of the stew's broth. "Breakfast is served."

          "Oh boy! I'm starved!" Prompto rubbed his hands together and pushed up, helping Ignis serve the bowls.

Gladio's weapon dematerialised, breaking down its mystic structure into the ground. He groaned in pain as he slowly righted his posture. Noctis did the same, taking wavering steps as he fought to stay balanced upright. A heavy hand fell upon his back good-naturedly. The prince grimaced again and followed a tattooed arm up towards his companion. Gladiolus grinned down at him, and the two walked to the circle of chairs. Noctis fell into place next to Prompto's chair, and Gladiolus took Ignis'. The bespectacled male noticed this and stared off to the side. He let out a little "Hm" but had no other comment on the matter.

Noctis was glad to take the hot bowl with his gloved hand. The chopped potatoes, little dried tomatoes, and artichoke hearts perfectly framed the flayed beef – all submerged in a hearty broth. The prince lowered his face, welcoming the steam's warmth against his sore skin. Gladio was rolling the shoulder of his free arm as he waited for his bowl to cool down. Prompto, bless him, was rolling a hot potato morsel on his poor tongue. Ignis took the free seat between the bodyguard and the royal.

          "You two have fun?" he postured, right hand wafting the smell towards him but more importantly cooling the dish down.

          Noctis tilted his head to the left before shrugging up his shoulder. "You could say that."

Gladiolus chuckled off to the side. He didn't really have anything to contribute on that front.

          "I see you've got a little trick," he replied instead. "Don't worry; you won't catch me off guard next time."

          "Don't count on it," Noctis mumbled to himself, lowering his head down as he drew up a forkful of goodness.

The four fell into their usual banter - planning their travel ahead, reflecting on the battle – and overall relaxed until the road called for them again.


End file.
